


....

by Corycides



Series: 100 Fics in 100 Days [33]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>15 years late, Monroe finally gets a very important message</p>
            </blockquote>





	....

Bass slouched back at his desk, and let his head roll back. Plans had been made, orders signed and bridges burned. All there was left to do was wait. 

Maybe it was old habit that had him reaching for his drawer, needing something to fill an empty hour and keep his fingers busy. Or maybe seeing helicopters in the air for the first time had made his nostalgic. He hooked his finger through the handle and pulled the drawer out, reaching in to the very back for the battered old tin box.

There was nothing important in it. No deep, dark secrets that could be used against him. Just the ID he'd never remembered until there was no use for it, then he always absently stuffed it into his pockets, the change from his pockets, an old picture of him and Miles in – hell he didn't even remember any more, somewhere fucking cold from the look of it – and his old iPhone. He lifted it out – glossy and cool against his fingers. After so many years of home-spun fabric and hand-forged tools, it was almost alien how slick it was.

On the desk Jaffe's pendant stuttered to glowing life and a shiny white apple swam up from the dark screen. It was so ordinary/extraordinary that he felt wrenched between then and now.

A rap at the door was followed immediately after by Jeremy shoving it open. He had plaster dust in his hair and a split in his eyebrow. Bass rubbed his own jaw ruefully, feeling the bruise under his mouth. They hadn't exactly acquitted themselves with flying colours.

'We retrieved a body from the diner,' Jeremy said. For once he wasn't playing silly games, no sly pauses or mockery. It reminded Bass why he actually let Jeremy get away with all that, why he still remembered the man under the use. 'Not Miles.'

Disappointment that he could own and relief that he couldn't accept. He wasn't a child. Friendship wasn't forever. Family wasn't forever. 

Irritated with himself – with the whimsy of the damn phone – he went to shove it away. Too late, as it caught Jeremy's eye.

'Is that an iPhone?' he asked, face lighting up with interest. 'Facetiming Georgia to give 'em the finger?'

A tempting thought. 

'Hopefully, they don't have a pendant so they can check messages,' he said dryly. 'Just a pretty paperweight now.'

'Is there porn on it?'

Bass raised his eyebrows with withering disdain. 'What?'

'Oh come on, not like you're signing on to find out whether Tumpy302 guessed right on your last Draw Something. It's gotta be porn...' He stopped and snapped his fingers. 'Sandy. No, Susie. The woman who was sending you the dirty picture.'

Bass clenched his jaw, feeling the muscles flex under his skin. 'Next time you claim to have forgotten something, Baker-'

'Come on, let's see,' Jeremy said, a ridiculous grin crumpling his face. He slung his rifle off and leant it against the wall, coming over to lean over Bass shoulder. 'Was she dirty?'

'Out of your league,' Bass said, amused despite himself. He flipped the phone over in his hand and slid his thumb over the touch screen – wondering if it would even work. The scratched scuffs of 15 years of being hawked around in packs and old boxes made it drag, but it came on. 'I'd just met her that night.'

'And she was sending you naked pictures?' Jeremy chortled. 'You had game.'

Bass snorted. 'I was standing next to Miles,' he said. 'Anyone would look good.'

There had been a time he'd thought he'd ever forget that last, lit-up night. Now it was a vague blur of sickly sweet booze on cherry-red lips, music pumping against his ears and Miles, contrary to what he'd said, pulling far too many women to be fair when he wasn't trying. 

He clicked into his messages.

'Did she want you to wear a dress?' Jeremy asked. Bass didn't need to look around to see the face. 'Kinky.'

He'd forgotten that. Glancing around he narrowed his eyes at a leering Jeremy. 'If you ever even hint at that to -'

Jeremy held his hand up. 'Hey, I pissed myself when those guys were laying into me. Not like I want you telling everyone that. What happens over iMessage, stays in iMessage.'

Too late to worry about it now anyhow. He scrolled down and tapped. They both cocked their head to the side to stare at the half-a-picture. Belly button to underboob.

'I would have worn a dress too,' Jeremy said. 'On reflection.'

'I didn't wear a dress,' Bass protested, laughing. It felt like it should creak.

'You know,' Jeremy said. 'It's not like it is hard to see an actual naked woman anymore. You probably don't even have to pay. So...'

'Hey,' Bass said. 'I spent 15 years waiting for this. I'm going to enjoy the damn underboob.'

Jeremy laughed so hard he snorted and finally pushed himself to his feet. 'Well, I will leave you and Susan alone.' He stepped back and tugged professional distance up. 'Sir.'

He left, scooping up his gun on the way out. Bass slouched down in his chair and stared at the photo for a minute. Then he snorted and tossed the phone back in the box. Jeremy was right. He could have a woman who whole boobs under him in 10 minutes.

Susan was the past – just like iPhones and Miles and everything from before. The Republic was the future. He'd make sure of that.


End file.
